


911/Mr Lonely

by Softe_Gays



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Detective Keith (Voltron), Detective Lance (Voltron), Eventual Smut, Eveyone is Canadian, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), I'll explain why in notes, M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pre Season 7, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softe_Gays/pseuds/Softe_Gays
Summary: Investigate the scene. Interview the witnesses. Make nice with the reporters. Slip away for a donut afterwards to make up for the disappointment of another cold lead.It was simple really; Keith and Lance had done the gig more times than either of them could count. They always hoped that the crime (whether it be a bank robbery, a murder, or just gang related violence) might be the piece that they needed in their seemingly unsolvable case, but they always seemed to come up empty handed.At least that had been true until now.-In which Keith and Lance are detectives working together to find the mysterious ‘Black Lion’- a thief who has stolen a famous statue that nobody really cares about, yet somehow everyone does. When they find themselves with a new lead, they quickly find themselves with a new problem as well: Matt Holt has gone missing. As they struggle to close the cases, they're faced with many challenges and under the stresses they come to realize that their bond may run a little deeper than just ‘friends’.





	911/Mr Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> I love detective shows and I love Klance so I asked myself “how can a put these two together” and this was the result, I hope you all enjoy ;)
> 
> As mentioned in the tags, this story takes place in Canada. This is because I'm Canadian and have a better understanding of how Canadian law works than American, so it's just easier for me. It won't have a huge impact on the story but it'll make more sense if I have a disclaimer lmao.
> 
> A big big thank you to both @blondeslytherin and @lowkeylilac for proof reading this chapter, I appreciate you taking your time to do this for me and I love you both sm

Investigate the scene. Interview the witnesses. Make nice with the reporters. Slip away for a donut afterwards to make up for the disappointment of another cold lead. 

It was simple really; Keith and Lance had done the gig more times than either of them could count. They always hoped that the crime (whether it be a bank robbery, a murder, or just gang related violence) might be the piece that they needed in their seemingly unsolvable case, but they always seemed to come up empty handed.

At least that had been true up until now.

See, the two detectives had been pursuing a high class case over the past four months that had gone absolutely and utterly cold. 'The Case of The Black Lion' as the press had taken to calling it. And the press was all over it.

'It' was a robbery; an intricately carved piece of black marble made to look like a furious lion had been taken from the Daibazaal Gallery in the dead of night- no trace of it ever having been there, save for the black paw spray painted on the display glass.

Supposedly the statue was ancient- carved by some unknown person around the Renaissance, which made it all the more vulnerable to getting stolen it seemed. And though the figure was surrounded in rich history and lore, nobody actually gave a shit about it. People gave a shit about who in their right mind would want to steal the thing.

Lance personally didn't see what the fuss was about. Sure, it was an unsolved mystery and people loved those but it was actually making his job harder.

Months of reviewing reports with no results had made both him and Keith restless enough to jump at anything even vaguely resembling a lead.

“So let me go over this one more time; you got here at six o'clock, no one else was here and the case was broken? No clear signs of a break in otherwise?” Lance peered down at the notebook in his hand, having skipped over everything but the important details.

“Yes… err… no. There was paint smeared on the floor but I cleaned it.” 

The young woman in front of him was, well, a little disorganized for lack of a better word. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight high ponytail, crisp and well maintained. Her elegant black dress complimented her slim frame with flowing fabric and belts fit for a celebrity- although the care with which she presented herself seemed to exceed that of her care for her job. 

Jotting down the new information about the paint Lance let out a small sigh. Why hadn't she said that when he'd asked about the break in earlier? He was about to ask a follow up question when he realized the woman was still talking.

“-thought that it was from the other night. Gerald- clumsy guy that he is- somehow managed to spill a whole bucket while painting the walls once, so I thought maybe it was his mistake and had it cleaned. Was right over there it was,” she was saying, pointing towards the closest counter. Lance grit his teeth in frustration as he offered the woman a smile.

“Is that where you were when you noticed the empty case?” He asked, his patience wearing thin. Normally he had next to infinite patience but he may or may not be currently hungover… at least a little bit anyway.

“It sure was! Just about screamed when I saw the broken glass- not to mention that dreadful graffiti. It's one thing to steal, but to vandalize our stuff as well? Why-”

Lance had stopped listening at graffiti, his eyes going wide as alarm bells rang in his head. 

“Graffiti?" He demanded, cutting the woman off mid-sentence as his head whipped towards the broken case. “Where? Show me,” he insisted, voice making clear the feeling of hope that rushed through him. If it was what he thought it was…

With a huff, clearly unhappy about being interrupted, the woman led Lance over to the case and stopped a foot away- as if she were worried about going any closer. 

“It's on the pedestal,” she said shortly, crossing her arms and looking to the side as the detective crouched down to inspect said pedestal. At first he saw nothing, but he shifted a little and- 

There.

A black paw print.

Lance was in disbelief. Four months of nothing and now… now they had a lead. 

“Kogane! You're gonna want to see this,” he called, excitement lighting his words. He peered around the side of the pedestal to grin at where his partner stood, interviewing the last person to leave the building.

His partner looked more than happy at the summons- in that way that Lance only knew because he spent nearly every day with the guy. To anyone else, the man looked mildly annoyed. Although for Keith those could quite possibly be the same things. 

“What do you want? I was almost finished with my interview,” came Keith's predictably snappy greeting as he moved to stand beside where his partner perched. With a roll of his eyes Lance waved for the other detective to crouch down too, watching as Keith obliged with a small grumble. 

“No need to pretend that you weren't seconds from hightailing it out of here,” Lance said in a hushed tone, shushing his colleague as he spotted the look of protest on his face. “Don't deny it, you know I'm right,” he added, waving his hand as if fanning the matter away. 

“I know something that'll cheer you up though,” the detective said smugly, lowering his hand to hover in front of the painted paw. He watched as Keith's gaze followed his pointing hand, an impish grin spreading on his face as he watched the disbelief and excitement flash over his partner's features. 

“Is that-”

“Yes.”

“…Holy shit.”

The two men stood up slowly, gaze glued to the paint for a moment before turning to stare at each other wide eyed and awed. 

It only lasted a moment though, a horrible sinking feeling clawing at Lance's chest as he watched the light shutter out in his partner's eyes- replaced by a look of guarded cautiousness.

“It could be an impersonator,” Keith said, and from the tone of his voice Lance could tell that that horrible feeling was plaguing the both of them as the thought sunk in.

It was a reasonable reminder but Lance couldn't let that ember of hope die out. He felt like they were closer than they had been in months. 

“Well maybe it's not. Either way it's a case- we'll work it and see what happens.” Lance's jaw set with determination and he waved over a forensic officer before giving Keith a shrug. “Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky.”

Keith gave him a disbelieving look, biting his lip as the officer came over. He held his tongue as Lance ordered an analysis of the paint used before speaking quietly. 

“Or maybe we're just wasting our time.”

A look of irritation passed over Lance's face at the words. Why was the guy so adamant in believing it was a dead end?

“Look, there's a lot of maybes here, but that's sort of the whole point of our job,” he said impatiently. “We figure out which maybes are real and which ones aren't. Now go finish your interview so we can head back to the precinct.” Harsh, he knew, but sometimes Keith just needed that little push.

Which from the looks of, Keith wasn't all too pleased about, having drawn himself to his full height and scowling in displeasure.

“Don't tell me what to do,” the man snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as he did indeed do as asked. Lance watched with a frown of his own as his partner stalked off to finish his interview, lingering a moment before he made to do the same.

-

They wrapped up quickly after that, Keith's state of irritation carrying through the rest of his interview and all the way back to their car. He reached the vehicle first, making a beeline for the driver's side and scowling as he cut Lance off. 

“I'm driving,” he stated, voice flat and leaving no room for argument. Yet Lance tried anyway. 

“What? No way, you drove on the way here!” His partner huffed, delicate features falling into a frown as his arms crossed. 

Keith tried really hard not to let his annoyance melt upon seeing that downward tug of Lance's lips, or the way the man's eyebrows pinched together in a way that was just unfairly pretty… It was too late, Keith could feel himself fighting a losing battle.

“Don't think I haven't noticed that you've been drinking again,” he said simply, forcing all thoughts of attractive partners to the side as he pulled out the car keys. Which was lucky, because that meant he was too distracted to see the hurt and unease that passed over Lance's face like a cloud on a sunny day.

“I'm not drunk now. You know I would never come into work drunk.”

“I know you wouldn't but you're hungover and need a nap- you look like shit.” 

This time it was a look of indignation that Keith purposely ignored as he unlocked the car and slid into the driver's seat, catching the mumbled, ‘You look like shit,’ as his door shut with a thud. His lips tugged up in the smallest of smiles at his partner's childish response, disappearing as easily as it came as the passenger door opened.

The sound of the engine starting drowned out Lance's grumbles, to which Keith rolled his eyes at. 

“I'm serious. Get some sleep before we get back- if you're right about this being the Black Lion again then you're going to need it,” he insisted, moving the car out of the jewelry store parking lot. As he turned onto the road he could feel rather than see Lance's deadpan glare.

“Or suffer, see if I care,” Keith grumbled. He did indeed care- he cared more than he would admit. 

It was another moment of that glare out of the corner of his eyes until he heard Lance shift, heard the soft thud of his head hitting the window coupled with more soft grumbles. Another moment passed before Keith became certain that the man had fallen asleep, and he finally allowed himself to relax.

What a dangerous game he played- always walking that thin line between his emotions and rational thought. It was common for him to be impulsive- to be reckless in the face of things, but this was something that he knew he had to handle delicately. 'This' being Lance.

Or more accurately, his feelings for Lance.

At the beginning they hadn't gotten along in the slightest. Keith was more about getting the job done and over with while Lance always took time to delve into the emotional side of things. And it had irritated the hell out of him.

But as time passed he began to understand. He understood how compassionate his partner was and why he was. It was easy to close a case and leave it in the past but Lance would always linger- would check in on those involved for a few days after before leaving it. Keith admired him for it; as a guy who ran from emotions of all kinds it seemed like too daunting a task to face alone.

Overtime that respect he'd grown to have for Lance had become… something more. 

Something that scared the shit out of him.

So when Keith saw that paw print on the broken pedestal, his heart had sunk not because he thought it could be an imposter (in fact, he was fairly certain it wasn't), but because he dreaded closing this case. Dreaded him and Lance losing this one thing that brought them together, that was so entirely theirs.

Maybe it was selfish of him but as he parked in front of the precinct and turned to wake his sleeping partner he couldn't find a shred of guilt inside him.

“Wake up,” he spoke softly, reaching across the seat to nudge Lance's shoulder. The man woke with a small start, eyes wide in surprise before noticing Keith and relaxing into his seat. Lance said nothing as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He seemed unaware of Keith's concerned, watchful eye but when he looked back over he didn't look the slightest bit surprised when their gazes locked.

His hair stuck up on one side and Keith's heart ached at the sight of it. Acting without thinking, he reached out just as Lance opened his mouth to speak. The words seemed to die as Keith flattened the soft tufts and when he pulled away his cheeks were flushed.

“Lets go,” he said quickly, darting out of the car before his partner even had a chance to speak. Keith missed the odd look that Lance gave him, a sort of confusion as his head tilted and his hand moved to touch where Keith's hand had been.

Keith was nearing the precinct doors by the time that Lance caught up to him, his cheeks thankfully back to their usual pallor. He gave his partner no time to talk to him as he slipped inside, sighing as the warm air washed over him. A similar content sigh sounded from behind him and he tried not to smile as he heard Lance speak. 

“Fucking Canada- always so cold.” 

Keith was inclined to agree, rubbing his chilled hands together as he nodded. 

The weather was only just starting to get cold though, and they had both foolishly seen the bright blue skies and assumed it would be warm out. As a result Keith felt like an icicle, having only worn a t-shirt beneath his thin windbreaker. 

The two detectives had barely made it past the main entrance when they were stopped by a city cop, who was wide eyed in a way that Keith could only call star stuck. 

“You're wanted at your desks- someone is asking for you,” the cop explained and Keith shot his partner a raised eyebrow look, but Lance looked as bewildered as him. 

“Anyone in your family supposed to be dropping in?” He asked, but the cop interjected.

“They're asking for you Kogane.”

Keith's eyebrows furrowed and he looked to Lance with an expression that read, ‘I don't know what's happening.’ The only person who could possibly be visiting him was Shiro, and he always called or texted ahead to let him know.

“I'll go talk to them I guess- thanks for the heads up,” he said slowly, nodding in farewell as the cop took off. Lance was quick to turn to him, seeming to forget the awkwardness from only moments ago. 

“You're not expecting anyone, are you?” His partner asked. Keith shook his head slowly, biting his lip as he wracked his brain for a guess on who it could be. Coming up with nothing, he decided to shrug it off.

“Lets go see who it is.” 

The two made their way through the marble halls of the precinct, passing the main entrance and turning down a few more halls before entering the open office area where their desks were set. 

Detectives and cops alike bustled about, the constant chatter never ending around them mixing in with the sound of phones ringing and metal drawers opening and closing. It was lit mainly by the large arching windows that panelled the outer walls but most desks had small lamps upon them as well. Keith and Lance's desks were set in the far left corner, and there had been a rumour that went around for awhile that said the captain put them there because it was farthest from her office- and therefore she would not hear them constantly arguing. 

Jokes on her; she could hear them anyway. 

Everything about the room was familiar to Keith. He couldn't count the hours he'd spent sat in here going over case files with Lance. But right now, there was something that was very unfamiliar to him here. 

No, not something, someone.

There was a woman that Keith had never seen before sitting in the chair next to his and Lance's desks, and she was probably the last person he could ever imagine asking for him.

Even from just the way she held herself he could tell that she held some sort of high authority; her spine was straight and full of poise and regality. Her cheeks seemed to glimmer with stardust, bright and blinding against the smooth dark of her skin. White hair was swept up into an elegant bun, loose curls hanging down to frame her face and neck, perfectly matching the diamond earrings she wore. Keith wouldn't be surprised if they were real. 

Yet she couldn't be, not with her fine clothing (her dress looked like it were somehow made from actual water), not with her look of absolute self.

Keith could see exactly why Lance's eyes seemed to be bugging out of his skull.

“I'm detective Kogane,” he introduced, biting down on the inside of his cheek as Lance jumped in. It wasn't like he wanted to be jealous, but when Lance seemed to flirt with every woman they came across, he couldn't stop the ache in his chest.

“And I'm detective McClain, his partner,” Lance was saying, giving the woman a nod of greeting. “Can't image why someone as grouchy as this guy has caught your attention,” he added, winking as he tilted his head towards Keith, who scowled.

The woman seemed amused by this, turning to look from Lance to Keith. 

“I've heard that you aren't the warmest of people. I do think you might be more than what they say though,” she said smoothly. Keith had to stop himself from showing his surprise at her lilting accent, the sound of it every bit as regal as she looked. 

A moment later her words clicked in his mind and his confusion seemed very clear. Who's been taking about him to people like her?

“I'm sorry, have we met?” He asked, voice harsh. Lance jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow at his rudeness but Keith just returned the blow. To both their surprise the woman cracked the smallest of smiles.

“My apologies. I am Allura Altea- I take it you know who I am,” she stated, watching as both Keith and Lance's eyes widened. 

They knew exactly who she was.

The owner of Altea Corps. One of the largest shipping companies in the country.

Keith suddenly understood why the cop they'd met in the hall had looked so starstruck.

“I… require your assistance. This is something that I'd preferably have handled by you,” she was saying, and Keith's mind snapped back into focus so that he didn't look like a dunderhead. Beside him Lance still looked shocked. Something that she wanted handled by them?

“What's the issue miss?”

Allura's face grew solemn, and Keith felt a growing apprehension. Like something big was about to happen- something that was going to make his life infinitely more complicated.

“I have reason to believe that a friend of mine, Matt Holt, has been kidnapped.”


End file.
